Our Beginning
by saya-taroppyu
Summary: The answer, as to why all Vocaloids are what and how they are. Kaito couldn't have told a better story to Kaiko and Mekaito. Alas, the story is anything but pure innocence.
1. Chapter 1

"Kaito-niisan…Kaito?" Kaiko paused apprehensively, poking her head into the doorway of her big oniisan's room, entry forbidden. "Kaito..?"

"Told ya' he wasn't there, Kaiko." A miniature version of the teenybopper appeared at her back. That would namely, be Shion Mekaito. He scowled in impatience, foot tapping on the lacquered wooden floor. "Look- we don't need Kaito-niisan to prepare our ice cream snack. We can do it ourselves. Now can we get back to watching Benny Lava?"

Kaiko was in no mood to start another Blink-and-you-lose fest with the 72-inch metal and plastic monster. "No."

She continued with her musings, "If Kaito-niisan isn't in his room…"

Shion Kaito leafed through the thick, well-thumbed book. His thumb smoothed over the spine the book was encased in. "Cantarella', screamed the title of the book in curlicue script.

"Mmmm…mmmm…." He hummed tonelessly through pursed lips, the sound almost muted. "Marchela Harkaroff and Karakov Shekylrin were Russians…"

Kaito was in the cosy Study of the Shion household that only Nigaito frequented. The table lamps bathed the room in a warm glow, and the old English countryside-themed furniture and Persian rugs littering the room made him feel so much more at home, ensconced even.

He suddenly felt an overpowering sense of unease. Someone was watching him. Make that two people. His skin prickled. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

Slowly, he slid his bare feet down from the tabletop to the floor. He stood up slowly, making his way to the open door, still clutching his book in his hands.

"AAAAAAAA!" Kaito and his siblings screamed fully saliva-flecked throaty yells, Kaiko and Mekaito's of terror and shock.

"AAAAAAAAAAA-"

Kaito peered at them curiously. He had stopped screaming. What slow reflexes, he thought.

Surely his scream wasn't that scary?

"AAAAAaaaaaa-"

Kaito tapped his foot on the floor.

"Aaaaaaaaa…" Their screams died away to whimpers.

Kaito grinned at them. "Took you guys long enough, eh?"

Kaiko grimaced, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "We wanted to scare you."

Mekaito grouched. "Told ya' the ass clown wouldn't be shocked."

"WHO'S THE ASS CLOWN?"

"Nobody! Nobody! Eheheh…"

Mekaito's cockiness was dramatically punctured by Kaito's ultimate Evil Eye. He was scary.

Mekaito spread his nimble, slender fingers in an apologetic gesture. "Eheheh…Slip of the tongue…"

Kaito relaxed and chuckled warmly, striding back to his desk in the Study, just as Kaiko whacked Mekaito hard around his messy head of royal blue. He let out a silent howl, screaming silent bloody murder.

Kaito settled himself comfortably into his armchair. "So," he asked, tilting his head sideways. "Why are you two here?"

Kaiko's lips curled into a soft quirk. "We came to see what you were doing." Mekaito sniffled quietly, rubbing his head wound tenderly. He was sure he would be the next Taito.

"I was…studying, if you may." Kaito smiled in satisfaction at his sister's dubious look. "I was reading 'Cantarella' for another upcoming PV. I am very busy. I have no time for anything else. Not even you two pests."

Hurt brimmed in Kaiko's eyes. Mekaito looked wounded.

Kaito regretted his words. "Just kidding," he smiled. "C'mere, you two. I wanna' show you something special."

Uncertainty flickered in Kaiko and Mekaito's eyes. "C'mon," repeated Kaito warmly. He waved at the nearby couch near a bookshelf. Kaiko and Mekaito took it as an order to sit, and Kaito rummaged about in one of the bookshelves. "O…O…O-U…" He muttered to himself, his fingers tapping the spines of the books, flying across the shelves. Finally, he stopped at a huge leather-bound book, titled, 'Our Beginning'. He pulled it out and blew gently across the front. Dust flew off easily, and golden script shone out from admist the remaining dust.

He threw himself onto a seat near his two siblings, fidgeting about until he was comfortable. "Now," he looked up, excitement and anticipation glinting in his eyes. "Ready?" Kaiko and Mekaito nodded eagerly.

He began in his soft, silky vice that echoed with slightly boyish tones, mellow yet throaty.

"_**Once upon a time…" **_


	2. Chapter 2

'**Yeah**, it was boring. Drop-dead boring. Rather fly-away-and-la-la-la boring.

But who could go wrong with playing lacrosse in the garden?

Well… Not when your older sister had something else in mind.

"Seriously, Allen! Why would it be crotchet, of all things!" The brat-sized, five-year old princess demanded huffily, waving her arm imperiously. She was stuffed into a puffy, fluffy, meringue-y shaped dress of extremely fine quality, and dotted with crystal beads along the hemline in an artistic, haphazard sort of way. Allen had given up counting the beads half an hour ago. "I hate it! It reminds me of Alice in Wonderland!" She kicked the ironically flamingo-shaped crotchet stick and a prickly crotchet ball aside. She sighed in disgust. "And we don't even have proper goals to hit the balls into!"

The sun showered its rays down on her, turning the grass around her bright and green, their dew-dropped topped leaves nodding under the weight of the dew, and the whole garden full of healthy, majestic trees basking in the splendour of their remarkable size and height. The sapphire sky outlined the blindingly white, sheep-like fluffy clouds, floating about. Exotic flora and fauna burst to life in dashing, bright colours. Beautiful birdsong drifted from the trees. Nearby, there were intricately arranged rows of hedges in a tight, winding maze.

Rillianne tossed her messy, unkempt head of dirty-blond hair, all ruffled and tufts of hair sticking out in the wrong place, and glanced at Allen, nostrils flaring, as if he were a lowly prisoner who ate cute, innocent babies for lunch, and not one of the people closest to her. "Well?"

Allen looked up from thick strands of wild flowers and weeds clumped together in his grubby hands, his mind violently jerked from a wandering daydream to reality, to stare at her with his blinking baby-blues. "H-huh?"

She clucked her tongue in disapproval, all thoughts of crotchet erased. "I can't believe you're my b-b…p-p-p-bra-bra…" She twisted her face into a look of concentration. "P-p-p-bra-pra-prrraaa—"

"Prada?" Offered Allen helpfully. "You've always liked Mister Prada's dress boutique downtown, Rillianne." This broke her concentration on pronouncing the word, and she glared at him balefully, narrowing her eyes in a fit of childish anger.

"Don't call me 'Rillianne'! I'm PRINCESS Rillianne! Idiot!" Rillianne pulled at Allen's perfectly combed and neatly tied ponytail, identical to hues of her own. It didn't hurt at all, but just to humour Rillianne, Allen scrunched his face in an expression which Mother fondly called, 'Constipated'.

"Ow," he said tonelessly. "Please stop."

Looking satisfied and pleased with herself, Rillianne grinned coyly and craftily. "No!"

"I'll give you the last piece of brioche, during dessert."

"No!"

"All Hallow's Eve candy? Including the caramel bites. You know you like that one,"

Allen wheedled slowly, trying to entice Rillianne in the delightful preposition she had in her hands. "Every. One. Of. Them." He cocked his head up at her.

"Mmmm…" Rillianne hummed to herself. "Really…"

Truth was, Allen could have easily forced her to get her hands off his hair, but he decided to play along. Just for fun. She was fun when they played. If he did that, she would throw a tantrum and sulk for hours until Mother punished him to do something undesirable. Like listening to Father drone on and on about Politics. He had to tread carefully, now.

"No."

"Then what do you want me to do?" Allen mock-pleaded. "My princess, my Highness, please release me, your humble, loyal servant who rushes to your aid when you meet dire consequences. I'll bow to your feet to the very end. I'll be there to the very end. I—" Allen had heard these sentences being repeated many times before, tumbling in a flurry from the mouth of actors that played the knight in plays, to the actress, their princess.

He stopped. Rillianne had loosened her grip on his hair, and was looking at him in a strange sort of way. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, and her eyes glimmered with…with… a weird, twisted delight.

"Ri—Rillianne?" He stammered, forgetting her decree that he address her formally. "What is it—"

She cut him off, staring intently at him. "Say that again."

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me. You know, the part where you said ' "You're my princess…" ' You know, that," She exclaimed impatiently. "Say it."

"Later."

"No!"

"Okay, okay…" Allen felt creeped out. "Don't look at me like some mental patient."

"I am NOT one!"

"Okay, okay! Don't start bawling at me!" Allen took a deep breath and rocked back on his knees.

He closed his eyes.

The sharp, sweet tang of the citrus fruit he had eaten for dessert earlier was no longer in his mouth. Darkness clouded his eyes. He placed his right hand on his heart. He opened his mouth.

"I… Allen of Lucifenia, pledge my services to the great and worthy Rillianne Lucifen d' Autriche," He cried in a voice that rang out majestically throughout the garden. "My princess, my Highness, I am your humble, loyal servant who rushes to your aid when you meet dire consequences. I'll bow to your feet to the very end. I'll be there to the very end. I will always be," He took a breath, pausing dramatically.

"Yours."

He opened an eye.

Rillianne stared down at him, expressionless. "Forever."

"Forever?"

"Yeah. Forever."

He didn't ask why, but he just smiled.

_She's so cute… She wants everything from me…_

"Okay. Forever."

Rillianne promptly let loose a waterfall of giggles, bubbling forth from her pink, plump, softly curved lips. They echoed in the emptiness of their own abode of Nature. "That's good!"

She squealed in delight and ran to Allen, squeezing him tight around the waist. "I'm so glad! I get to ride 'Horsey' on you! Forever! Ahahaha!"

Allen smiled with satisfaction. She could have been his older sister, but sometimes, he felt like the oldest.

Meanwhile, a figure watching from a window from a tall tower nearby turned away.

It hurt. So badly.

The figure turned to a tall, strapping man with golden blond hair behind her.

"Leonhart," she addressed him warmly, the frown on her face breaking into a tired, forced smile. "Thank goodness you're here."

The man knelt on one knee. "M' lady," he greeted her in a gruff, gravelly voice. His eyes shone kindly through a mop of hair that fell over his forehead. Without waiting for the woman to continue, he asked, "What happens now?"

Silence. Ghastly, spirit-crushing, deadly silence.

"I…don't…know." Her voice cracked with a quiet hint of despair. She dropped the smile.

Without warning, rivulets of salty, wet and warm drop spilled forth from the once sparkling orbs of sharp, baby blue. They ran over her soft, dimpled cheeks, and finally sinking into the soft, silky scoop of her dress's collar.

She sobbed silently, drawing in ragged breaths violently. Her entire body heaved, and she trembled.

Leonhart, the man, watched her, with despair sinking into his heart. It was terrible to see the once regal lady, whose eyes shone and held her head high for a public to watch, breaking down into a mess.

"Queen Anne…" he whispered. He sank to his knees. "Please. Our country needs you. You must be strong!"

She broke into a wail that could only heard by those with her, thankfully. "You ask me to be strong, when I just want to be s-s-sad?" Her voice was choked, and she spat the words out with much difficulty. "Leonhart-t-t," she hiccupped. "Als is fading a-a-a-w-way!" She grasped at his arm, her fingers scrabbling for a grip. "He's going…He'll be gone soon…Oh…" She gave a moan of sadness and hopelessness. "I don't know what to do. I'll miss him s-s-so much! And…and…" She swallowed tearfully. "Once Als falls, the country will too! Without a ruler, Asmodean will move in for the kill!"

"What do you mean, Your Majesty?" demanded Leonhart forcefully. He raised his voice. "Lucifenia has you! And your Rillianne and Allen! Stay strong for them! They still have you!"

At the mention of Rillianne and Allen, the tears fell even more savagely, faster and more came, dripping onto the floor with soft 'plinks'.

"I know," she moaned balefully, wringing her hands. "The little babes! I l-l-love them s-s-so much…" She hissed in sadness. "But I'll have to leave them soon… They'll have no father, no mother… I'm such a—a-a selfish pig!"

"What do you mean?" Leonhart shook her hard. God, this queen was raving delirious! Where were her senses? "Your Majesty! Please!"

"I'll show you! You won't understand until I do!" She snatched her hand away from his grip, and held it up in the sunlight. Slowly, she slid the long sleeve away…to…reveal…

Leonhart recoiled in fear and revulsion. "The Plague," He rasped.

"That's right," smiled Anne sadly, as if already submitting to her fate. Tiny red and black spots dotted her arms in horrifying amounts. They were huge, numerous in quantity. "I got this from poor Als, while nursing him at his sickbed-" She gave a dry, humourless laugh. "Or should I say- deathbed."

She slowly lapsed into thoughtful silence, leaving the Plague-ravaged arm uncovered.

"We just have to wait… and see what Fate condemns us to." She said heavily, with bated breath. "What a show," She muttered darkly, chuckling even a little, as if it were a joke. "And Rillianne…and Allen…" She broke into quiet sobs again, and hunched over in grief.

Leonhart watched her.

_Please…don't despair…I'll find a way…to save them…_

Surely, there was hope?

The suddenly grey-coloured skies that hid away the Sun gave no answer, a requiem to their oncoming dilemma. Not at trace of cheerfulness was left in the sky.


	3. Chapter 3

"There." Kaito closed the book, and placed it on his lap with a satisfied smile. "Was it good?" He waited expectantly for the responses of the critics.

Kaiko frowned. "Doesn't explain much. I don't really understand. But more please, since it sounds like there is going to be incest."

And as for Mekaito- "Continue please," he demanded. "I wanna' see what happens to the Plague lady. Is she gonna' explode with blood and slime?"

Kaito was crying a flood of tears inside. _These kids..! They are only interested in the story for such immoral and stupid reasons..!_

Kaito gritted his teeth. "Ann and the Twins had better not hear that…" He harrumphed sternly. "Its their favourite book," He lied, waggling his finger at his younger siblings. _Get the hint! Get the hint!_ He screamed at them from inside his head.

Mekaito picked at his nose. "Okay. Now are you going to get the ice cream snack?"

Kaito groaned quietly.

~THREE ICE CREAM SNACKS LATER~

' "**Your Highness!** Your Highness! Where are you?" Leonhart bellowed. He darted away, narrowly dodging a huge, burning piece of wood that detached itself from the ruined ceiling. He coughed and swiped at his profusely sweating brow. _The heat is unbearable!_

The palace was burning. The fire was ravaging it violently. The attacks had came from Asmodean, no sooner had the announcement of the news of King Als demise spread around the other three kingdoms of Levianta, Belzenia, Elphegort and Marlon. Just as Queen Anne had predicted.

Leonhart charged furiously down the smouldering carpet. The heat blistered his throat, yet he did not stop to take a good, deep breath.

He ran past the beautiful, expensive paintings adorning the hallways, already charred into an unrecognisable mess. The detailed and intricate wallpaper was burnt to a dry, black crisp, and the carefully crafted gargoyle stone carvings were melted, lined with unsightly black burn marks. The effect of the fire had already taken place, near the Inner Chambers. A room had collapsed into its own frame, a huge fire consuming the debris. Thick, black smoke cloaked his vision. Tiny infernos blazed on the floor, and he strained his eyes to avoid stepping into them.

The elaborate French windows were melted into an ugly abstract shape. The fire was roaring like a wild, untamed beast, spiralling out of control. He saw the door of Allen's room in a distance away. He gasped in relief and immediately regretted the action when he breathed in the foul-tasting gases. Still, it was seeing the light at the end of a tunnel for him. He staggered forward and with a hefty blow, he threw his entire being onto the door.

There was a tremendous cacophony of painful-sounding crashes. Leonhart cursed as he slowly got up from lying on the broken door, grunting painfully and gripping his sprained ankle. He looked up just in time to watch the black, thick smoke cloud surge in, filling the humongous, French-window paned room, gorgeous beyond belief, filled with items of luxury, such as a four poster bed with a soft goose feather mattress with a beautifully embroidered eiderdown to match, along with a bulky golden gramophone, pushed aside to the wall and thick velvet curtains. But...

By then, Leonhart could see waves of pure heat shimmering in the air. Even Rillianne and Allen's room was not left untouched. Miniature infernos blazed brightly on the floor, and the curtains were burning. A horrible, singed smell came to Leonhart's nostrils. Tongues of fire lapped and licked hungrily at the windows, making escape through there impossible. His eyes darted around frantically, searching for Allen.

Lady Luck was smiling down at him. He spotted a young boy with a head of dirty-blond hair, lolled on the floor in dead faint, peeking out, and buried under... A huge mass of collapsed and _heavy _curtain frames molded out of pure gold, with the velvet curtains still attached, and blocked by mounds of broken wooden furniture. He cursed vigorously," Shit! He fainted from breathing in too much fumes and carbon monoxide!"

Leonhart crossed the little fires flickering across the floor nimbly, and forcefully lobbed the broken furniture aside, where it was attacked by the fires that grew bigger as it consumed the wood. Sparks sprang out from the fires as more chemicals were released into the atmosphere. With all the strength vested in him, he pulled Allen out from under all the curtains, roaring as he went.

"Damn, you're heavy, Your Highness," Leonhart grunted to no one in particular as he slung the unconscious Allen over his shoulder. The boy moaned softly.

Leonhart turned and charged out of the door and into the blazing hallway. He was halfway out of the palace, until he stopped at the top of the flight of grand staircases. There was a sea of flames roaring, flickering, a vast and mighty inferno straight out from the ovens of Hell itself, burning from beneath him. It wasn't that bad before, was it? Servants screamed in terror. Even the wails and cries of the townspeople had reached his ears and they rang and echoed. There he stood, transfixed in fear and horror.

Suddenly, he heard a call of a blow horn. It was elegant, sophisticated, and pleasant sounding. It could even be regarded as music to some. Distant, but yet its notes led him to feel... fear. To Leonhart, it was poison. If he could hear the blow horn, it meant that... The army of Asmodean was reaching the palace soon.

And there he was, scared stiff by the fire. He still had a crown prince in his arms, for God's sake. He was the commander of the vast and mighty army of Lucifenia. He was supposed to reach his troops, and command them to fight for Lucifenia. To protect Lucifenia, and the members of the Royal family. He couldn't let Lucifenia be taken. He could not let her fall.

Wasn't that his idiot job? ("Kaito-niisan, I'm going to tell Miku-neesan that you said the 'I' word-" "Just shut up, Kaiko!" "And that you told me to shut up too!")

Then, without any traces of hesitation, he turned and jumped out of the shattered window behind him.'-

"Ohmygod!" screamed Kaiko, like someone who had just won the lottery, shooting up in her chair, her back arched, poised to pounce. "I mean, OHMYGOOOOOOD, he jumped out of he window!" She clutched her face, wailing dramatically.

Mekaito was so excited, he jumped up and down on the futon (_Since when was there a futon here? I don't even remember seeing it- Oh well_, Kaito scratched his head), nearly knocking over his half-melted bowl of ice cream, and leaned forward eagerly, pink splotches on his cheeks, "Cool! Did he die too? I wanna' see him die!"

Kaito sighed in exasperation, and part horror. He made a mental note to never to mention this to Leon.

"So what happens next?" Kaiko wriggled in her seat in anticipation. "Well? Well? Well? WELL?" She screamed into Kaito's ears.

_Oh goodness, I think my ears are actually bleeding_, Kaito thought.

Kaito winced, "Well.. First off, you two have to promise to keep quiet. I'm half-deaf, Kaiko, for Crypton's sake."

"Awwww... Okay." They sighed agreeably. "Now?" Kaiko asked expectantly.

"Gee, I'm kinda' tired... I'm going to bathe, bye," Kaito singsonged.

"You liar! I'm going to tell Miku-neesan that you lied! Right, Mekaito?"

"Yeah!"

"Let's get him!"

"Argh!'

The three siblings collapsed on the floor in a tangle of scarves, legs and arms. Kaiko giggled triumphantly, "Yeah!" She cheered , riding atop of Kaito's back. Mekaito guffawed, as if to agree and say '_Yeah, aren't we great?_'

Looking up at them, Kaito had to laugh along with them. "All right, all right," He mock-sighed, as if to admit defeat, spreading his palm face-up, while laying sprawled on the floor. "Bed time, 'kay?"

"Promise?"

"Sure do, guys. Now promise me you won't tell Miku-neesan or Meiko-neesan?"

Mekaito and Kaiko shared a look, and eyed him craftily. "Maybe!" They chorused, using that tone that makes you wonder if they mean it or not.

"Hey!"

Laughing merrily, they clambered off his back and ran off to their adjoining bedrooms to play.

Kaito smiled fondly after them, and proceeded to clear the three bowls of their ice cream treats earlier.


	4. Chapter 4

_**I highly recommend listening to the track 'Re_birthday' by Len-san, while reading this chapter. I don't know why, but I feel that it is one of mothy-san's biggest masterpieces ever. Enjoy! **_

' "**Allen! **Allen!" Rillianne screamed. Her lungs felt hoarse, dry and broken. Her voice cracked. "Come out! Stop hiding! I know you're there! You can't win this time!" She screamed again at the falling, burning palace, her hands clenched into tight, unyielding fists, shaking it furiously at the fire. "You stupid, you idiot pra—bra- praaaa- AAAAAARG!"

Queen Anne stood next to her, begging and weeping, "Rillianne, we have to go! We'll find Allen later! We have to go!" She clutched Rillianne's arm.

Surrounding them were the Queen's Guard, huge, burly men generously encased into thick, heavy metal armour, and wielding scary swords. They were to escort the Royal family of Lucifenia to a safe refuge in the countryside. They shifted on the toes nervously as they watched the pleading Queen and her stubborn-as-a-goose daughter arguing viciously. Around them, the maze seemed to be closing in on them. They were in the garden's huge maze, designed to confuse the enemies and trick their senses, allowing the Royal family to slip away safely.

When the fire started, Anne, Rillianne and Allen had been brought out of the palace immediately, but Allen insisted that he needed to retrieve something and rushed back in, despite protests from his mother, whom he had never disobeyed before.

And now, where was Leonhart? Oh, forget it! Let him be! He was probably out fighting the Asmodeans. Anne sensed an impending headache. Her temples were throbbing. Rillianne had always been the most stubborn out of the two, but now, she was downright disobedient!

"Rillianne," Anne pleaded. "We really have to go! The Asmodean army is approaching the palace! They'll take you away if you stay here! PLEASE!"

"NO! I'M STAYING UNTIL I FIND ALLEN!"

Anne snapped, right there and then. Her nostrils flared, and hit Rillianne across the face, hard and roughly, with a resounding _PIAK_.

Rillianne's cheek smarted horribly. In all her six years of life, Mother had never hit her at all. Until now.

She stared up at all her expressionless mother with huge, wounded, yet disbelieving eyes. The light of the fire cast flickering, shifting, ever-changing shadows across Anne's face. Anne's eyes glinted coldly, looking as regal as a queen, and she stared down at her daughter, as if daring her to refuse again. You couldn't tell even tell that she was an emotional wreck a few seconds before.

Rillianne's voice quavered. "You—you- hit-"

Anne didn't wait to hear the rest of it. She turned, her long skirts rustling, to cast a withering glance at the closest guard to her. If looks could kill, this poor guard would have been six-feet under and pushing up daisies.

"What are you waiting for?" She snapped at him in a voice cold enough to burn. "Go! Carry her if you have to!"

The guards shared apprehensive looks. Finally, a tall man came forward, and heaved Rillianne into his arms, grasping her firmly. Rillianne winced and squirmed uncomfortably, but she never opened her mouth to complain.

Then, the whole group disappeared into the shadows of the night.

Meanwhile, Leonhart was somewhere that no good commander worth his salt would go to, in a time of battle. ("Aww, he didn't die!" "Mekaito! Don't say that!")

Why, that would be his home.

He had ridden all the way home on his trusty stallion, Lolia, to drop Allen off for his servants and adopted daughter, Jermeille, to nurse.

"Father! Father!" A busty twelve-year old donning in a simple red cotton dress burst through the huge front doors of the mansion. She clattered down the steps in bare feet, her dress billowing after her. "Oh Father-" She stopped dead, before her father, clutching his arm, "You're not hurt, are you? And did you see? The city! It's burning! They won't come here, will they? The Asmodeans? We do live in the countryside after all- And who is this?" She peered curiously at Allen, her brown, choppy locks brushing over his nose. He sneezed, and groaned softly.

"Take him, Jermeille, I have to go fight," he rasped. He dropped Allen onto the floor, and clambered back onto Lolia. He jerked her reins, and she whinnied magnificently, and took off to the battlegrounds. He was gone as fast as he had come.

Jermeille watched after his disappearing figure. "Good luck," She called, but of course, he couldn't hear her. She glanced down at Allen quizzically. She heaved him up onto her shoulders, with a lot of effort and difficulty.

"Ack!" She wheezed. "You're heavy for a six-year old, you know that?"

Cursing under her breath, she waddled slowly up the staircases and into the mansion.

It was the break of dawn.

The sun rose slowly, colouring the sky, its rays falling onto the land gently. The colour-dotted skies greeted Leonhart's eyes as he looked out the window of his carriage, driving a gravelly road to the Anne's summer chateau that served as a refuge from war.

"We're reaching soon, Your Highness," He told the smiling Allen warmly, chuckling all the while. "You look mighty pleased!"

"Of course, Sir Leonhart!" Allen chirruped. He was clutching a half-woven weed and wild-flower circlet, and a portrait of his father, the late King Als, which was rolled into a tight scroll, in his grubby little hands. "I'm going to see Mother and Rillianne again!"

He grinned at Leonhart shyly this time. "Thank you for saving me from the fire yesterday, Sir Leonhart! You're really brave, ending the war and all that! You even captured the commander of Asmodean! I'm pretty sure Mother will want to reward you! I would too! What would you want?"

Leonhart laughed good-naturedly, and embarrassedly. He was not used to these kinds of praises, especially from a chubby little kid. "No… No…" He waved his hand dismissively. "All that I ask for would to be serving under the rule of my beloved Lucifenia."

"Cool! When I grow up, I wanna' be just like you too!"

The carriage shuddered as it drove over a particularly rocky part of the road.

Leonhart smiled. "Thank you, Your Highness. That is really kind of you to give me such praises."

"Its true! And I'll be a wonderful ruler and be kind to my people, just like Mother! And I'll protect Rillianne!"

Leonhart smiled fondly at him. _What a bright, compassionate mind_, he thought. _The future of Lucifenia will be safe in his hands._

The carriage slowly drove up the winding driveway of the chateau, before it slowly came to a stop.

"Ah, we're here! Please follow me, Your Highness." Leonhart helped Allen down, and took him by the hand.

They walked into the enormous chateau, where the guards flanking the front doors recognised Allen and Leonhart. "Your Highness! My Lord! Good morning!" They bowed low. Leonhart acknowledged them with a grunt and a nod of his head, whereas Allen said primly, "You may rise. Thank you." The thick carpet made shuffling noises as they pattered across the floor.

They walked up the flight of grand staircases and as they neared the Hall of Functions where a meeting between Queen Anne and her advisors were ongoing, Leonhart dropped Allen's hand. "All right, your Highness. I'm going to tell your mother that you're alive, safe and sound, okay? Don't come here unless I tell you to. It's a surprise!"

"Mm!" Allen nodded eagerly. He ambled off to one of the couches nearby, and sat down, and started to weave the circlet from where he left off, engrossed in twisting the strands of tough weeds and flowers.

Leonhart smiled fondly at him, and started towards the Hall, when suddenly, a full-fledged shriek, ceased his legs to function. "NO!"

Leonhart frowned. Wasn't that the Queen's voice? He edged toward the door, and peered through a tiny crack in the door.

There was, seated comfortably in their plush leather chairs, were the full court of the Queen's advisors. From young to old, juniors to seniors were all of the advisors. Except Leonhart. Why wasn't he invited? His face flushed red, and he continued to watch.

"No! No! I simply do not allow it!" Queen Anne's face was red, and she clenched her hands into fists. She was at her usual seat at the table. For a person who had gotten the Plague, she seemed very active and energetic enough to yell and scream.

"But Your Majesty! Lucifenia can only have one heir to the throne! Only one! You have two children!" cried a newly appointed advisor. Leonhart recognised him. Mr Duncaes What's-his-name, Leonhart remembered.

The other advisors all murmured in agreement, nodding their heads solemnly.

"Rillianne will do! Please!" cried another old geezer. It was Mr Mathieu Chariss, was it? Leonhart wondered. He always sat next to that man during meetings, and he smelt like rotten, raw herring dipped in vinegar. He frowned. It sounded suspicious.

And the next sentence stopped Leonhart's heart for a second.

"That's why we mustn't search for Allen, nor allow him to return to the Royal family and palace as crown prince," concluded Duncaes What's-his-name. "We must eradicate him! A girl will do as the next successor in line! A girl is easier to manipulate, and will be more tame!"

"You're asking me to abandon my own son, my blood and flesh, who may be lying underneath all the debris and rubble, still alive and breathing? Are you bastards mad?" Anne spat out at them. Her hand slammed down on the painstakingly carved mahogany rosewood table. It creaked and groaned, and Leonhart guessed that Anne might have been hitting the table a lot of times from when the meeting first started.

"It's the only choice! It's cruel! But we have to do it! Do you want to ruin the country in the future when Allen and Rillianne are trapped in a struggle for power? Your Majesty," called another of the advisors. There were more murmurs of agreement from his comrades.

"Leonhart would never allow this!" cried Anne. She slammed the table again, more forcefully.

"And that is why we didn't invite him," exclaimed Duncaes. "Your Majesty, with power, comes great responsibility. You have to make great sacrifices. For your own country's sake. You have to sacrifice your son. You have to kill him." Leonhart glowered in rage, fuming quietly. Of course he would not! It was cold-blooded murder!

_NO! That's rubbish! Allen would never become a power-hungry tyrant! _Leonhart wanted to cry out, but his political instincts stopped him.

Anne started to cry. She buried her face in her pale hands. She shook and wailed in agony. All her advisors watched her, waiting for her answer.

"You selfish fools! Allen was never your son, never your own blood and flesh. How can you condemn an innocent boy to this fate?" Leonhart whispered, voice thick with rage.

_Please, my Queen. Say no!_

Anne looked up at her advisors with contempt and hatred, slowly raising her head. Her eyes burned. "All of you are heartless wolves!"

Some of the advisors recoiled at the murderous light in the Queen's eyes. Some flinched, and looked down at their laps in shame.

She started to cry again, her tears like fat, sparkling freshwater pearls dropping off her cheeks and onto the table, with quiet '_plip, plops'._

Leonhart felt hope. Surely, Her Majesty would disagree?

"Fine."

And Leonhart felt his heart drop, into a cold, dark pit. All, _all _of Allen's hopes for the future was dashed at once. He would never see his Mother's face again. Nor his sister's face.

Poor Allen.

He drew in a sharp breath, and shifted his body weight to another foot. The door creaked, and Anne turned, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. He held his breath, and slid away. She scrutinised the door, then relaxed.

"I," She spat out the words in a tone of acid, and extreme melancholy, her face twisting in agony. "Queen Anne Lucifen d' Autriche, will…will…" Her voice broke, and she shuddered, fresh tears flowing down her face. "Will not save…save…my son…s-son-" She paused apprehensively and let out a sob. "T-the crown pr-prince of Lucifeni-ni-nia," She stammered and sat back in her chair, clenching her fists. "Allen…Allen…Oh, Allen…" She wailed heart-brokenly. An advisor next to her patted her shoulder, and she snatched it away, her lips pulled back in a guttural snarl, "Don't touch me!"

He drew back his hand in fear, and she continued, "Lu-Lu-cifeni-ni-nia d' Autriche, _no matter how badly it tears me apart. May Lord have mercy on my soul_!" She spat her sentence out, and collapsed onto the tabletop, all life drained from her. She sobbed loudly, and let out a wail that could melt the hardest of hearts.

"Forgive m-me, Allen," She screamed. "I'm- I'm a terrible mother!"

All the advisors murmured in debate, while Anne continued to cry.

Leonhart froze. And he did not move. It was like last night's fire. It had stolen all his senses.

Thoughts gushed through his mind, like water over a cliff.

_I have to save him._

_But you'll be breaking the law._

_He's an innocent boy! Its cold-blooded murder!_

_Queen Anne trusts you! You can't do this! Turn in the boy!_

_What are you, Lion or Man?_

He blinked.

_I'm a Lion._

And he grabbed Allen, tucking him under his arm, despite a yelp of shock from the chubby little prince. And he ran out of the chateau, blowing past shocked door guards, and into the carriage.

He slammed the door, and yelled to his driver. "Listen, Ainsel, do you want to get a two-hundred dollar bonus for today?"

An excited squeak from the gangly servant meant yes.

"Then you'll have to break a few traffic rules. Speed on!"

The carriage jerked forward before Leonhart could even finish his sentence.

Allen looked at Leonhart questioningly. "Why… aren't I… with Mother?"

Leonhart looked at him. His big, blue eyes, radiating pure innocence. Pure naivety.

And he hugged him, tightly.

"Allen… you're not longer His Royal Highness Allen Lucifen d' Autriche… You can't return to the palace anymore… You're Allen Abaddonia now. My son."

"Why?"

The look in Allen's eyes was just plain quizzical. No anger, sadness. He must've known that there was a proper explanation for all this.

Leonhart sighed sombrely. Poor kid.

"I'll tell you later at home… Son." '

Kaito closed the book gently, and looked at his brother and sister. "So..?"

A chorus of gentle snoring came. Kaiko and Mekaito were sleeping peacefully in bed, tucked into their blankets like a sausage roll. Kaito smirked at Kaiko's pajamas, given to her as a birthday present from Len. It was bright blue and had the famous 'Bananas in Pajamas' dancing a happy waltz. She seemed more like three, rather than twelve.

Kaito chuckled. "Oh."

"Well," he dusted off his knees, yawning and stretching. "Goodnight, guys."

He bent over and planted a kiss on their foreheads with a quiet 'chuu'.

They were rather cheeky sometimes, but they were so adorable and angelic when sleeping. He forgot that fact sometimes.

He smiled, and flicked the nights off as he slipped out of the room. Pitch darkness fell.

**Well..? Like it? I hope you do... **

**Good night guys, I'm tired too. **


	5. Chapter 5

"Wakey wakey! Ice cream and bakey!" Kaito's eyes sprang open. There was an elephant screeching at the top of its voice, and it was _on_ him.

"AAARg—" He yelped.

His arms windmilled and almost slipped off his bed, covers and all. There was an "Oof!" from the elephant, still on top of him. Kaito groaned. "You…"

He took a good look at the elephant and sighed gustily. "Gee. Its you, Kaiko."

The petite blue-haired tween laughed. "Good moooorning! You sound ridiculous in your sleep! Mumbling about 'ice cream', then 'Miku', then 'Miku covered in ice cream'! Aha! Aha! Ahahahaha!" She slapped her knee in hysterics.

Kaito groaned. "What are you doing in my room so early in the morning?"

Suddenly, an octopus attacked Kaito. It jumped onto him, and latched onto him, and pulled him down, dragging him to the floor. "Kaito-otoutou!"

"Gyaah!" Kaito yelled, as a flame-haired man, a few inches taller than him and a mischievous, good-natured glint in his eyes, tickled him. "Akaito-aniki! Stop that! Eeeeee-"

Akaito laughed gleefully. "Did I hear someone mention a certain 'Miku-tan'?" He made quotation marks with his fingers and waggled his eyebrows purposefully at Kaito. Kaito snorted and tossed his head. "Yeah, right." Akaito grinned wickedly and dealt his trump card.

"Hey!" Kaito's eyes went wide. "Akaito-aniki! Don't grab _that_! Don't grab my-" His face went red and he spluttered.

He swiped at his older brother, who laughed and went for the chance. He tackled Kaito in the waist, and they collapsed onto the floor again.

Kaiko clucked her tongue at them. "Hey! Are you going to read 'Our Beginning' to Mekaito and I?"

As if on cue, Mekaito charged into the room. "Ha! Shion's in the house, bay-beeeeee!"

He jumped at Akaito who chuckled and caught him, spinning him round and round in his arms.

And ultimately landed onto Kaito.

"Ack!-"

Akaito staggered up and swiped the eagle-spread book, lying on Kaito's bedside table. "I'll read it this time. No hard feelings, otoutou." He winked and waggled his finger at Kaito, who glowered a deep shade of umber at him.

"Settle down, guys!" Akaito hollered. He leant back on Kaito's bed and waited until all his siblings turned to stare at him, quiet and expectant. Even Kaito had to admit that he looked forward to be read to. Just… a little.

"Okay! Ahem…

' "Two hooded and cloaked figures trekked along the dark, gravelly road. Their feet encased in simple leather shoes made scuffling noises as they walked. The taller of the two donned a long and thick wooden staff. It was gnarled and knobby at some parts, and smooth and thin at others. Each step the figure took, the stick would be raised, and it would fall back to the floor with a 'thud'. It echoed through the forest. And it was loud.

Around them, the entire forest was alive. The trees shook their branches, and their leaves shivered, like waggling tongues. Birds cooed nervously, and fluttered away to their nests. Wild beasts growled and ran, straining their muscles for speed. Dew drops rained down from leaves, hitting the ground with a certain forcefulness. Fallen, dead and dry leaves that had turned a rough, scratchy consistency and was a crusty as sandpaper flew up into the air, clearing the well-trodden path. They shot to the sides of the path, in neat piles. Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the leaves and fell gently, in slanting rays, onto the forest floor. Bright, exotic and colourful blooms in the colour of rainbows burst to life, on the forest floor.

Meanwhile, the 'thud's of the stick continued. A rhythm beat within the heart of the forest itself.

The path gleamed, in a newly washed sort of way.

The two figures walked on, and soon stopped at a clearing, one with little weeds and grass shining with dew drops upon them. The one with the staff surveyed the surroundings. "Very good." She murmured in a lilting voice.

All the creatures of the forest were gathered at the clearing, their heads bowed respectfully, and their hoofs or paws, claws or wings tucked in. Huge, massive trees, to small, skinny trees were all bent towards the two figures, as if they were paying homage to them. Silence fell like a shadow over the entire forest. The entire forest was motionless.

The figure with the staff smiled, pleasantly, yet humourlessly. "They know me, eh."

In one sweeping motion, she pulled off her hood. Pink- yes, pink- long, flowing tresses tumbled down her back, like a cascading waterfall. It shone with a lustrous glow. Her aquiline features shifted into a look of satisfaction. "Thank you, my dear friends," she smiled. "Please, rise."

Slowly, life seemed to be injected into the veins of the forest. The animals slowly stirred from their trance, and rose, all turning for the forest. The trees shook and shivered, their leaves trembling, as if they were talking. They were, in fact.

_Elluka, Elluka_, they called.

The second figure pulled off its hood as well. It was a young girl, with dark, green locks, curling up softly in quirks. Her eyes were impressive as well. Lurid, ominous emerald-greens that shone with a certain intelligence, framed with soft, and thick lashes comparative to mink fur. She smiled fondly at her mistress.

She coughed politely, but it was a signal, nonetheless for Elluka, the pink-haired, and magnificently buxom lady, to hear what she had to say. "Mistress… Don't you think you should stop your antics? You sure do like to mess around with the animals."

Elluka grinned, showing off pearly-whites, honed by regular brushing everyday. "I'll have fun when Father Time allows me to."

"So… Is that why we're early? We're a few years too early, aren't we, Mistress?" The dark-green-haired girl interjected. "Maybe we should have headed back to Eldoh before coming back to Elphegort again. There shouldn't be any more travellers from outside allowed in, right after Margarita Blankenheim killed the entire city of Toragay, and committed suicide-"

"No, Gumilia." Elluka's eyes gleamed darkly, with a sense of foreboding in melancholy, mournful tones. The smile had slipped off her face. "This time is perfect. I came here for a reason. To Elphegort. You may not understand now. But I'm sure you will, in the future."

"Oh well then, Mistress." Gumilia spread her hands in a 'I'm-innocent-but-because-you're-the-Sorceress-I'm-listening-to-you' way. "Let's go. But-"

Without any warning, Elluka yanked her into the depths of the trees, the brambles and leaves, branches, thickets, thorns. They enclosed Gumilia and her, wrapping them tight, and they heaved forward, like being catapulted away. The branches waved erratically, pushing them forward, carrying them away from the clearing.

Gumilia didn't mind most of Elluka's methods of transportation. This one could be even considered ingenious. But. But. _The speed._

Gumilia felt as if she was being hurtled through a black hole, and she dared not looked down. Her face felt like it was peeling off. Her ears smarted terribly. _Ow. Ow_.

"M-M-Miss-t-ter-re-re-resssss!" Gumilia babbled. "Help- AAh-Arggh!" Her head whipped back and forth, back and forth, her hair flying wildly in her face. She would have been fine if she didn't feel like a Molotov cocktail, ready to be fired at the faces of the enemy. Bile rose in her throat. She heard a sickening, disgusting, wet crunch… and made the near-fatal mistake of looking down. A crusty, scum-encrusted, slimy and spotty toad looked up at her innocently, as it clung on to the sole of her slipper. "_Ribbit_."

Because he was a toad, that could've meant _Save me_! to _What am I doing here?_ to _Hey, baaaabe_.

"Gyaaaaah!" She slapped her face in horror and desperation. She swung her leg violently, with the ferociousness of hens shoving and squealing to mate with the only cockerel in the farm she had seen in the farms before. "GNO MY GOD GETS OFFA ME!" Wails. More screams. Cries.

Elluka looked at her apprentice. My _God_, she thought.

She snapped her finger, and the toad promptly detached itself from Gumilia's shoe, falling back to the depths of the forest, mid-headshake.

Gumilia relaxed. "Oh… Thanks… Mistress…" Her dress billowed into her face. "OOF!"

They came to a sudden stop, and the duo was thrown off their branches, with a sickening, speed-of-light consistency. If it was in slow motion… They would be flitting through the air, twirling in dance… Bright spots of light flashed in Gumilia's eyes

And Gumilia's world went pitch black.

She heard it. The first moment they landed.

ELD the tree spirit knew it was her lucky day.

She watched them from afar, scrutinising their every movement, every detail of their faces etched crystal-clear into her old, wise mind. She had been waiting for this moment, ever since she heard about Elluka Clockworker and her loyal apprentice, Gumilia, and the miracles that they worked together. Elluka and Gumilia had already captured a few of the Seven Deadly Sins, an awe-inspiring feat to many. And not only that, the rumours passed from the rustle of the leaves of trees across the Evillious region.

_Elluka_… It sounded like an uttered charm. A mantra that she chanted every single day, in the hope that said person would come. And now, here she was. In the flesh. ELD's breath came out in short, breathless pants. She had to seize the chance. She watched as Elluka sighed, from a distance away, and yank an unconscious girl jumbled up in a pile of limbs and arms to a standing position. The girl awoke immediately and scowled at Elluka. She said something and Elluka laughed fondly, ruffling her dark-green curls wildly. The scowl on the girl broke into a smile.

And they laughed wildly and without a care in the world, as if nothing had been funnier.

ELD felt a pang of envy. It gnawed unceasingly at her heart. _How I wish…_

Suddenly, Elluka gestured at the girl and she nodded, and they turned to leave.

ELD's heart thudded. She was losing her chance! "No!" She yelled.

Elluka stopped. She turned, her eyes darting around the surroundings, scanning it. Then her gaze settled on ELD. Something flooded her eyes. What was it..? ELD could not place it at all. And she seemed to be studying ELD like a particularly interesting specimen…no, a prized possession… like a winning card in a game.

The guarded look in her eyes faded, and she looked at ELD in a polite, inquiring sort of way. "Yes… Respectable tree spirit?"

ELD was so nervous, she could have shed all her leaves at once. "I…I…"

Elluka nodded, prompting her on. "Yes..?"

Gumilia cocked her head in curiosity.

"Miss Sorceress Elluka Clockworker…I… Want to be a human." ELD breathed eagerly, the words coming out in a flurried rush. "Please. I'll do anything."

Elluka studied her for a moment. "Sure."

"Wha..?" ELD was taken aback. It was as if all the air had been knocked out of her, and she could hardly breathe. She thought it would take a lot of discussions, some more days before Elluka would agree to anything like that.

_I…got what I wanted..?_

"Besides, I'm sorry, because I'm busy too. I might as well say yes. Right? I can see that you're pure in mind, heart and intention. It shouldn't be too difficult to maintain that when you're human. I'm sorry again. I can't change you into a human immediately. I'll put a spell on you first. First person to grant it turns you into a human. Here-" Elluka strode forward, finishing her full-speeded babble. She planted a kiss on the bark of ELD's tree, with a soft 'chuu'. "There."

For a moment, ELD didn't feel anything.

"Um."

_What just happened?_

And suddenly, she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her abdomen. It wracked her nerves and her mind boiled in agony. "AHhhhhhh-" She hissed acidly. Colour spots danced before her eyes, and the world was clouded over with a thick milky fog. Her head pounded madly and she twisted and screamed. _Its…killing…me…_

"Haa...haaa…" She gasped for air frantically. _What the hell is this?_

Elluka watched her with great sympathy. "I'm sorry. The pain comes with the transformation. I can't help you with the pain. You will have to grow a heart and brain, and that is what causes the pain!"

ELD cried inside. _It hurts!_

"Here, Mistress. I just know the thing. Really." Gumilia winked at her Mistress reassuredly.

"Gumilia..? What are you..?" Elluka asked. Her brow crinkled with worry.

But before anyone could stop her, Gumilia was next to ELD's tree. "Hey there," She whispered, and stroked the bark gently and affectionately. It shrank away at her touch.

"I know it hurts," Gumi whispered tenderly to ELD, who was seething inside. The seeds of pain that burst into bloom were attacking her like mindless parasites, leeches. _It hurt… So… Much…_

"I'll give you a little love to get you on your way. Yeah?" Gumilia smiled at ELD. "It'll be over soon. I promise. It'll stop."

ELD immediately felt a little better, even though the metamorphosis pains had reduced her to her knees. "Nghn…" She managed to grunt.

Gumilia hugged the fleshy tree trunk, her rough bark scratching her cloak, but she didn't care. A leafy tendril snaked its way around Gumilia's arm. "I'll be your friend. Okay?"

ELD cracked a weak smile.

"What's your name then, Tree Spirit?"

"I…I… ELD."

"Do you want a new name for a new life..?"

"Sure!"

I christen thee Michaela!"

Meanwhile, Elluka watched faraway. She felt horrible and guilty for tricking ELD.

She had only turned ELD into a human for one purpose… She would be a major tool in collecting another Deadly Sin…

She bit her lip in regret. And immediately, old memories flickered, sparks of life spiralling them awake. They washed over her…'

**I'm so tired… Good night guys!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A very big thank you to SephirothOWAxCloudStrife, Sirdimsum, Mirrored Sounds, ayumi9696 and x Nori Tsuki-Hime! You've kept me from lagging! And of course, Akaito is still narrating.**

" 'Now the story continues in a Grecian temple-like church. In the heart of its garden, healthy honeysuckle blooms and fat azaleas trawled across the wet, lush ground of greener-than-green grass. They stretched themselves across the walls. Tiny butterflies with myriads of jewel tones painted onto their wings that had a glassy shine, flitted and twirled in and out of the marigold bushes.

Glossy lurid red, fruits swayed on their stems up high in the branches of the many trees with sweeping tendrils.

Next to this huge, sprawling garden with acres of fertile land, was a huge building. Its strong marble pillars held up a high, arching ceiling of a hall shaped like a dome, complete with sweeping buttresses and gliding balconies.

It was complete with a chandelier dripping generously with jewels that sparkled in the sun hanging from the center. Wooden benches lined in neat rows across a cobblestoned floor in the hall, fit for seating hundreds and thousands of people for Sunday's Masses. An altar with rich, thick, faded drapings, candles and offerings, stood at the front of the hall. The air was thick with incense drifting in streams from hanging sachets.

Sunlight spiraled down in merry, slanting shafts from the grimy stained glass windows, above the porcelain head of an artistically chipped Roman statue. A rather bosomy lady, in fact.

The statue was an unspoiled alabaster white, the blank eyes on its upturned face forever watching the blue skies. A petite bluebird swooped in and perched primly on the lady's nose. It chirped. Another high-pitched chirp. Then it burst into trilling song, a pleasant rendition of _Amazing Grace _it had heard every Sunday's Prayers. It wriggled its little tail on its tiny rump, which was not more than a clump of feathers.

Heck of a smart bird, that was what.

_A-a-ma-maa-z-ziiing Gra-aa-accce, how s-ss-weee-eeet t-the- s-sso—ound-_

"SHUT UP!"

The bird broke off, frightened by the sudden violent outburst from out of nowhere. It was accompanied by a sharp yip.

It fluttered its wings in a panic, and its wings turned to a sharp blur of baby blue. It took off into the sky, leaving its comfortable spot on the statue's nose and turned into an undistinguishable speck in the sky.

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU! BLITHERING IDIOOOOOT!"

The unmistakable sound of flesh against flesh. A howl of pain. An excited bark from a dog.

"I don't believe you! Impossible!"

"But s-sire! Tis' true!"

A flabby, burly man who seemed like he had a permanent scowl stuck on his face since the day he was born, stomped into the garden from an adjoining corridor, his thick, woolen friar robes in shades of tartan green swishing like liquid around his ankles.

He was red in the face, the colour contrasting horribly against his robes, and he looked ready to punch someone. His eyes were all narrowed. If you looked at him closely, you'd get a feeling of unease, as if you just found out he was your long-lost brother you never wanted to have.

("WAAAAAAHHHHH! I DON"T WANNA HAVE A BROTHER HE'S SO SCAAAARY!" "What the hell, Akaito-anikisan! Don't scare Mekaito like that! Calm down now, Mekaito… "(Mekaito sniffles) "My apologies! Won't happen again. Hey! Mekaito! Remember Shel Silverstein? The man on the back cover of your favourite book? There! There he is! That's the man in the story! Your long-lost brother! Yay!" "NOOOOOO I DON"T WANNNAAAAA WAAAAAHHH! "£!$%^&*$£ Akaito!")

And something shocking, was the fact that he cradled a miniscule dog in his clothed arms. Its fur was a creamy white, and its neck bent from the weight of a ornate, heavy gold chain twisted around its neck. Its head was shrunken, its tiny body frail and shivering. Its eyes and tail were droopy, and the dip of his oversized ears was a little grotesque.

Grass snapped under the man's heavy feet, and he spat and slapped at a wasp that buzzed annoyingly around his face. Immediately, the wasp dropped down dead on the floor where he smashed it into the soft soil with another step, the soft, creamy insides spilling out of its sharp, crunchy and brittle exoskeleton, like scoops of pumpkin flesh.

Scurrying behind him was a scrawny man, hunched over in fear. His face was a pallid yellow. Oras was his name.

As far as Oras himself could remember, he himself was a huge coward. And always bullied. Bullied by his wife. His mother. His sister. His father. His grandmother. The tiny dog that resided in the friar's arms. He was scared all the time. Scared of anything. Scared of crying babies too. But now, he didn't remember anything else more frightening than the man in front of him- The church's friar. Friar Jeeves, he liked to be called.

"And I'll dare you to say it again." Friar Jeeves' lips were twisted into a snarl. It was ugly. And it reminded Oras of the church gargoyles that leered down from their pedestals. He inched back instinctively. Sweat ran down his face in steady streams.

Jeeves saw the fear in Oras' eyes and he coughed, tossing his head in the other direction. "And tell the truth now. I don't like liars… Don't make it _hard_ for yourself." He scratched the whimpering dog in between the ears. Its eyes rolled back in pleasure, and it collapsed into the rough fabric, its tongue lolling out.

"Uh…Uh… I…" Oras swallowed hopefully. He twisted the frayed hem of his shirt. "Em… I…"

He willed his hand not to leap to the smarting, bright red spot on his left cheek. It blazed. So painfully. So hot. Like a breath.

"Spit it out, boy! Don't be a coward. Some apprentice you are," Jeeves said. He twiddled with the dog's ears absentmindedly. He swung out lazily, and Oras yelped. He ducked, and Jeeves pulled his hand back to the dog's ears.

"!" Oras screamed.

There. He had said it. Jeeves had no reason. To hit him.

He was safe. "The entire truth, Friar Jeeves… I know, I'm sure…"

Silence. He looked up.

Jeeves' face was stone cold. Every part of him had stopped moving. His arms dropped and the dog leaped to the floor and raced away, yipping.

Then, Jeeves smiled- _smiled- _and looked deep into his eyes, as if scrutinising him close up. It was as if Oras had something that Jeeves had never seen before. Then he smiled toothily, his teeth gleaming menacingly in the sunlight.

He leaned closer, and closer, until Oras could smell his putrid breath. Jeeves gripped his chin tight.

"There," Jeeves breathed. "You said it."

His eyes glinted and he swung his hand down onto Oras' right cheek.

Oras merely felt the impact. No pain yet.

And then, the burn surged up to his cheek. He tried not to cry as it literally tore his nerves.

He collapsed and curled up into a ball on the wet grass, waiting for the next blows to be rained down on him.

They never came.

Instead, he heard the rustling of grass and the familiar swishing of robes. Jeeves was leaving? _Really?_

No, wait, Jeeves had stopped. He felt a shadow over him, and he knew that it was Jeeves. He dared not open his eyes, even a tiny inch.

"Make sure the prince is found. _Heck of a brat._ I knew that he never wanted to be king, but actually _hiding_…" Jeeves paused. "Find him, or else."

And then he was gone.

**You know who Kyle is, right?**


End file.
